The Yellow Claw eBook

Soames raised his head drearily; he felt himself in
the toils; he felt himself a mined man.

“It isn’t a salary,” he began, “which"...

“My dear Mr. Soames,” said Gianapolis,
tapping him confidentially upon the knee again—­“my
dear Soames, it isn’t the salary, I admit, which
you enjoyed whilst in the services of Colonel Hewett
in a similar capacity. But this is not a large
establishment, and the duties are light. Furthermore,
there will be—­extras.”

“Extras?”

Mr. Soames’ eye brightened, and under the benignant
influence of the cocktails his courage began to return.

“I do not refer,” smiled Mr. Gianapolis,
“to perquisites! The extras will be monetary.
Another two pounds per week"...

“Two pounds!”

“Bringing your salary up to a nice round figure;
the additional amount will be paid to you from another
source. You will receive the latter payment quarterly"...

“From—­from"...

“From me!” said Mr. Gianapolis, smiling
radiantly. “Now, I know you are going to
accept; that is understood between us. I will
give you the address—­Palace Mansions, Westminster—­at
which you must apply; and I will tell you what little
services will be required from you in return for this
additional emolument.”

Mr. Soames hurriedly finished his second cocktail.
Mr. Gianapolis, in true sporting fashion, kept pace
with him and repeated the order.

“You will take charge of the mail!” he
whispered softly, one irregular eye following the
movements of the barmaid, and the other fixed almost
fiercely upon the face of Soames. “At certain
times—­of which you will be notified in
advance—­Mrs. Leroux will pay visits to Paris.
At such times, all letters addressed to her, or re-addressed
to her, will not be posted! You will ring me
up when such letters come into your possession—­they
must all come into your possession!—­and
I will arrange to meet you, say at the corner of Victoria
Street, to receive them. You understand?”

Mr. Soames understood, and thus far found his plastic
conscience marching in step with his inclinations.

“Then,” resumed Gianapolis, “prior
to her departure on these occasions, Mrs. Leroux will
hand you a parcel. This also you will bring to
me at the place arranged. Do you find anything
onerous in these conditions?”

“Not at all,” muttered Soames, a trifle
unsteadily; “it seems all right”—­the
cocktails were beginning to speak now, and his voice
was a duet—­“simply perfectly all
right—­all square.”

“Good!” said Mr. Gianapolis with his radiant
smile; and the gaze of his left eye, crossing that
of its neighbor, observed the entrance of a stranger
into the bar. He drew his stool closer and lowered
his voice:

“Mrs. Leroux,” he continued, “will
be in your confidence. Mr. Leroux and every one
else—­everyone else—­must
not suspect the arrangement"...